


The Claustrophobic Suffocating Atmosphere

by Potkanka



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Lara is 21, Mentions of Blood, one mention of potentially squicky violence, original timeline, pretty tame for a TR fic I'd say, this whole thing is pretty much just talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 11:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11827575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potkanka/pseuds/Potkanka
Summary: After surviving a plane crash in Himalayas and reaching the village of Tokakeriby, Lara finally returns home. The reunion with her family is not as joyful as one would hope for. Luckily, Lara still has people to share her adventures with.





	The Claustrophobic Suffocating Atmosphere

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of working on my unfinished fics, I wrote a oneshot… And no, I don’t believe the events happened that fast, but it would need its own (semi-)long fic otherwise. Also I used the fanon name for Lara's mother because I wanted to call her _somehow_.  
>  The title of the fic comes from a line in Lara's original biography: _"Unable to stand the claustrophobic suffocating atmosphere of upper-class British society, she realised that she was only truly alive when she was travelling alone."_
> 
> Thanks to Voxsound for being an unexpected but most welcome beta reader. :) If there’s still any weird stuff left then it’s my fault.

Lara burst through the main door of the manor, grinning from ear to ear. Her parents were hurrying from the lounge towards her, a little harried but otherwise perfectly presentable. Winston was a step behind them.

“Lara!” Lady Angeline Croft gasped and embraced her daughter tightly before taking one step back to take in Lara's appearance. “We were so worried, we feared the worst, oh my little girl...” she sniffed daintily before continuing. “I'm so happy they have rescued you. I do not _dare_ to imagine what could happen if they did not find you there...”

“You look well,” Lord Henshingly Croft spoke up, one hand on his wife's shoulder to offer emotional support, “but we should still send for a doctor who knows what he's doing. I do not trust some charlatans living in the mountains...”

“It is fine. I am fine, really,” Lara said, with much less enthusiasm than when she entered, but still too excited by the past few weeks to truly lose her good spirits. “They were good doctors and I wasn't badly hurt anyway. Mostly some bumps and scratches.” Mostly indeed. But she didn't want to mention the nastier injuries to her parents just yet. Maybe when they were less distressed.

“Bumps and scratches?” Lady Croft said in disbelief. “You were in a plane crash, Lara! And it took them weeks to find you!”

Lara sighed, then dredged up a smile again. “No-one really found me, mother. I found my own way to the nearest village.”

“You were fortunate,” Lord Croft said gravely. “The natives could have been hostile. It was only thanks to the search team we sent and which found you there that we could be sure you were safe.”

“Right,” Lara closed her eyes briefly, deciding it wasn't worth reminding them who sent a message out of the village in the first place. The search team didn't really have to do much _searching_.

“The Earl of Farringdon was also very worried,” Angeline spoke up. “He contacted us and offered his condolences, expressing his sadness that he waited too long with his proposal… He will be so happy to hear you are well, Lara! He might just propose the next time he sees you!”

Lara's grin, twisted in disgust, let her only get few words out between tightly clenched teeth: “How… nice...”

“Lara?” a fourth voice finally spoke up and Lara's smile grew wide and honest.

“Winston!” she turned to the Croft family butler, both grateful to see him and to change the topic. “I hope you weren't too bored here without me.”

“I am sure I enjoyed the respite about as much as you did,” he answered coyly. For Lara's parents, it was an admission of his sorrow and hardships during the young lady's disappearance. For Lara, it was a clear yet unsaid “I enjoyed my peace and quiet while you were quite clearly enjoying yourself in a dangerous situation.” Oh, it wasn't that Winston hadn't been worried, but with the relief of Lara being home safe and sound, there was time for some ribbing.

Besides, it wasn't like Lara's parents were  even remotely aware of the fact that Lara didn't glow with happiness because she was home but because she  had just went through an adventure.

Lara smirked, then glanced at her parents, who had expressions of mixed relief and seriousness. Her smile dimmed again. They wouldn't share her joy of what she just experienced. They wouldn't understand, they wouldn't–

“I need to call Werner!” she exclaimed, stepping between her parents and towards the telephone table by the stairs.

“Werner?” Lord Croft wondered as both her parents followed her movements, “Werner von Croy, the archaeologist? If you have found anything he could be interested in, I'm sure it can wait until we are sure you are well.”

“I am well,” Lara said simply.

“I thought you two didn't speak?” Angeline said.

Lara grabbed the receiver. “We didn't. Then we did. Then we didn't. We are going to speak now.”

“Did he have a similar traumatic experience?” the lady inquired. “Do you think he can help you? I would prefer if you talked to a professional therapist. Actually, we are going to make you an appointment as soon as possible. We need to know your condition to plan the date of a party celebrating your return. Nothing too lavish, I think, not over two hundred guests, although we might make it grander if you wished...”

“No, thank you,” Lara said and lifted her finger from the last digit of Werner's phone number, letting the rotary dial spring back into place. Her parents stayed silent for the moment, knowing she wouldn't pay attention to them while telephoning. Besides, maybe they could learn what was going on with her listening to this call.

“Good morning, could I speak with Werner von Croy?” – “I understand, but this he will want to hear. Just tell him Lara Croft wishes to talk to him.” – “Yes, I assure you.”

Lara waited impatiently, her free hand playing with the telephone cord, wrapping it around her finger.

Then her eyes lit up. 

“Hello, Werner.” – “And you heard right, but I returned home... about five minutes ago.” – “I just thought it would be something you'd like to hear about. Much has happened.” – “Careful how you finish that sentence, it almost sounds like you have been worried.” – “You know me too well. Would you like to come for tea? I would rather enjoy seeing your face when I'm bragging about my exploits.” – “You can be here in no time, Werner, we have planes. I can even tell you a surprising amount of details about their uses as an emergency mountain camp.” – “Brilliant, see you tomorrow then.”

Lara turned back to her parents, grinning again. “How fortunate Werner is currently in his Austrian office and not in America. I'm looking forward to seeing him again.”

“I still think you should have taken time to calm down first instead of socializing outside of family. Talk to a therapist first. You must be distressed, you will not make a good host,” Lady Croft wrung her hands.

Lara blinked innocently. “I will make as polite host as Werner can only expect. I am sure he will have no complaints to voice.” If only because he'd consider it a personal defeat, Lara added for herself.

“So we are to wait until Mr von Croy arrives to even hear what has happened to you?” Lord Croft asked, almost offended.

“Yes, my dear,” his wife nodded with an unhappy frown to her mouth, “if you feel well enough to talk of it, we would rather hear it as soon as possible.”

“No,” Lara said resolutely, “I don't think you should hear that, mother. It would be a little too much for you, I think.”

Lord Croft nodded gravely, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder.

“And you shouldn't hear it either, father,” Lara said in response to this action. She could see how he suppressed his sudden bristling.

“What do you mean by that?”

Lara kept a calm, rational voice, hoping they wouldn't argue much about this. “It would be possible for you two to listen if I recounted a dry sequence of events happening at a formal ball. But this will be soaked with blood, mine and others. You need not hear that.”

A soft gasp from her right, and she turned to worried Winston. “You are welcome to listen, Winston, of course.”

“Why, thank you for that, young Lady, it will be sure to take another ten years from my life.”

Lara looked at him shrewdly. “So you do not want to hear it?”

“Of course I do, of course. I will prepare tea when von Croy arrives so I may calm my nerves.”

“That is- you cannot mean this Lara!” Lady Angeline said in distress. “Blood? And you would keep this from us?”

“What really happened?” Lord Croft's voice was sharp.

“Winston will give you a less bloody version afterwards, I'm sure,” Lara said. “Now I am going to get some sleep, if you excuse me. I have had a long few weeks.”

“No, you will stay and explain,” Henshingly ordered.

Lara was on her way towards the stairs, but a direct order from her father still made her stop. Quite an annoying reaction, if expected of her from everyone else.

“Father,” she turned slowly and made a few steps towards him. “In how much detail do you want to hear me describe blowing a man's brains out with his own shotgun?”

Lady Angeline gasped in horror, but Lara didn't tear her eyes from her father's, judging his reaction. The lord, for his part, didn't twitch a muscle. “Surely you are exaggerating now.”

“No, father, I do not,” Lara said. “I have killed a man. More than one in fact. They did try to kill me first, so I can assure you their deaths were immensely satisfying.” From the corner of her eye, she could see her mother lean against their elderly butler, breathing heavily. Her father seemed to have turned a little green, but otherwise did not let himself react.

“Clearly,” he said then, “you are exhausted and speaking nonsense. Go get some rest.”

“What a brilliant idea,” Lara said in a half-whisper. “I would have never come up with it myself.”

“Into your room, now!” her father commanded as he hadn't in over ten years.

Maybe it was… petty. Or childish. A stifled rebel phase of her teenage years, when she had had to act as the dutiful daughter in the presence of her parents. Either way, at the moment Lara absolutely loathed the idea of doing what her father was ordering.

“I think I have changed my mind,” she said. “The soft bed doesn't actually seem all that inviting anymore. Maybe I should just camp in the garden…” she tapped her chin in contemplation, looking out of the window.

Lord Croft really was angry now. “I will not be shown disrespect in my own house, not by my daughter, not by anyone! Do as I say or there _will_ be consequences!”

“Consequences?” Lara chuckled as she turned back to him. “I doubt there is anything you could do that would make me worried, not after what I have just been through.”

Lady Angeline decided to step in then, still leaning on Winston as she came closer. “Lara, clearly you are distressed… Dear husband, please excuse her behaviour. Let us all calm down and talk like civilized people.”

“Yes,” Lord Croft growled, his anger subsiding slowly, “Our daughter seems to be in need of reminding that she is back in a civilized society.”

“Oh I am reminded, painfully so,” Lara rolled her eyes. “It makes me want to go back to the mountains.”

“Lara, what are you saying?” her mother whispered.

Lara took a deep breath. “A therapist I don't care for, a party I don't care for, a suitor I don't care for, and orders I don't care for,” she turned to her father for the last one, then switched back to mother. “Is that what a civilized society is like? Merely a sum of things I couldn't care less about?”

The lord was opening his mouth in anger, but his wife regained her strength to stand on her own and rushed to him, setting a soothing hand on his shoulder as he had done previously to her, staring into his eyes meaningfully. He relented after a good ten seconds, if grudgingly. Angeline nodded in thanks and faced Lara. “Then what is it you do care for?”

Lara  didn't miss a beat. “Freedom to do what I want – make my own decisions and refuse what I dislike. Travelling, discovery… Adrenaline… This cannot be something you were not aware  of until now, is it, mother?”

“Oh Lara, aren't you a little old for such fantasies of great adventures?” Angeline shook her head, her soothing voice trying to reach Lara's common sense. “You have always been a little wild, but you are a grown woman now, you have responsibilities–”

“Only those I take upon myself,” Lara countered. She was getting tired of this, and not in the physical sense. She had been getting tired of this for some years now, looking back. Since the expedition to Cambodia, there had been a certain dissatisfaction which had seemed to burst out through the surface of her subconscious during her recent plane crash. “I will not accept as responsibilities that which are merely your ideas about my life.”

“We are your parents!” Lord Croft shouted.

“And I am of age,” Lara countered coldly. “You have no right to order me around.”

“As long as you live under my roof-” the lord started, but Lara cut him off.

“Who said I want to?!”

Her father's face grew red with anger and her mother covered her mouth in consternation.

* * *

“Hello, Werner. I'm going to make this quick.” – “Because I'm calling from a telephone box. I merely wanted to inform you of my new address.” – “Still in Surrey, but a different mansion. My aunt promised it to me a few years ago and I'm on my way there.” – “Permanent. Although my parents think I will come back, grovelling.” – “Disinherited, actually. I will tell you all about it tomorrow, if you wish.” – “Happy? Do I-” she turned to open the door of the booth: “Winston, do I sound happy to you?”

The former Croft family butler, now only Lara Croft's butler, merely inclined his head with one cocked eyebrow.

Lara smirked and rolled her eyes, closing the door again. “Well, anyway, as for that address...”


End file.
